The Problem With Jews
by ohmygodtheykilledme
Summary: The year was 1941. The Nazis had control over Germany and several other countries. The Broflovski's were taking residence in The Marsh's home, that is, until the Nazi Army invaded. Stan, Kyle's life long best friend, hides him away in hopes they don't find him. Unluckily, Captain Eric Cartman goes snooping and finds the ginger boy, enslaving him. Will Kyle ever be free again?
1. Chapter 1

**(*Author's Note* This story is rated M for fictional violence, historical content which may be difficult to read for some, hard yaoi /boy on boy/, Rape, and later on, gorey murder. The Marsh's will not be a part of that gore, I am sparing that much. There will be a few beatings, war scenes, and possible anorexia and starvation scenes. Read at your own will, leave me comments and ratings, I hope you enjoy my story and PLEASE tell me if I need to elaborate more. The first chapter will be sad, not as much violence, though some, and will not be as well detailed as the later chapters will be. It is partially a tester. Thank you all for reading.)**

It was the year 1941. Hitler and his Nazi Army had officially taken over Germany. The majority of the Jewish population had either been captured and placed in Concentration Camps or killed. Other countries had begun to be taken over as well. Somehow Switzerland had stayed neutral, but that was another story. The Allies and Axis were in the middle of a gruesome war, and nothing could stop it. That is, unless one side decided to surrender. Anyways. . . Back to 1941.

The Broflovski's, Sheila, Gerald, Kyle, and Ike, were all hiding in the basement of their friends, the Marsh's, home. Kyle would occasionally sleep upstairs in Stan's room, for the raven haired boy had been his best friend for countless years. That and, seeing how he was sleeping on the floor of a basement, it could be get rather cold. Regardless of where they slept or who they were staying with, tonight was the night everything would change.

The time was now precisely 10:42 pm, and everyone in the house was asleep. Kyle was cuddled closely to Stan in his warm bed, the faintest smile curving his lips. Somehow, though, the Nazi army had found out the whereabouts of the Broflovski's. That means, as hard as it is to believe due to the fact the Marsh's had told no one about the Jewish family taking residence within their home, somebody had snitched. They must have been being watched, because now, on this date of December 12th, 1941, the Marsh household was invaded. The metal lock on the door shrieked as it was shot, the deafening sound of metal being broken clawing at the ears of the now awake household members. The lead officer kicked down the wooden door with a nasty smirk, causing the door to land with a loud THUD that echoed throughout the home.

"In my closet… NOW." Stan whispered sternly to his obviously terrified friend.

"But Stan, if they-"

"Now!" he hissed, pushing the red headed boy out of the bed, getting up himself. Kyle was teary-eyed and wanted to protest more, staring up at his friend. He was barely able to speak, but he managed to whisper: "Stan. . ."

And with that, the ravenette turned around for a moment, managing to give a reassuring, yet fake smile.

"I love you, Ky," he said to him, turning back around with tears in his eyes.

Kyle wanted more than anything to break into tears, but he knew now was not the time to lose himself. He quickly crawled over to the closet, opened it, and once inside closed the door and held the door knob tightly in his hands. Tears now streamed in heavy streams down his cheeks, putting a hand over his mouth to silence himself. His entire body was trembling, partially from fear, partially from how hard he was crying.

'Why. . .' The ginger boy thought to himself as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the door.

* * *

Stan knew he couldn't stay in his room, they would have come in eventually anyways. But oh, how he wished he had. Sheila and Gerald were on their knees in front of, what appeared to be, the head officer of the Invasion Team. Ike, the Broflovski's adopted son from Austria, was in a bloody pile on the floor, seemingly not breathing.

"**You Jews are all the same. . . **_**Lying, hiding, stealing. **_**. . But it always catches up, yes?" **The Nazi man spat before the creaking of Stan's door hinges caught his attention, causing his attention to turn away from the Jewish people. His piercing golden eyes stared into Stan's like daggers, an evil smirk once again curling his lips. In an eerily slow fashion, he made his way over to the Marsh boy, the heels of his boots making a heavy sound each time they hit the wooden floor boards.

"You must be the other Broflovski boy then?" he glanced at Ike through the corner of his eyes, then back to Stan. "That is, based on the fact of how similar your coloring is to his, I must not be mistaken?"

"No," Randy Marsh cut in, causing both Stan and the officer to look at him. "Stan's mine. . ." he finished before Sharon silenced him. The Nazi looked at Stanley once again, looking too pleased to hear that.

"Even better," Stan looked at him with a slightly curious expression. "That means you can tell me where he is."

Stan automatically had a plan, looking at the Nazi with a confused expression.

"What do you mean?" he played him. "Ike is the only child of the Broflovski's."

The officer's pleased expression dropped to a grimace, obviously not satisfied by Stan's answer. "Oh? Well I am **positive**. . ." he smirked again. ". . . That there are TWO."

Stan only shook his head, refusing to break their eye contact.

"Then tell me," the Nazi challenged. "What happened to the other one?"

"There never was one."

The leader's patience was running dry, Stan was too stubborn. He had to break him.

"Lie to me again," he glared at him with pure hatred, pulling out a handgun and pointing it at Stan's mother, who was huddled together with Randy and Shelly.

"I _**dare**_ you."

Stan opened his mouth to speak, then looked at his family. A sorry look was in his eyes before he looked back to the officer, staring back at him with the same hatred.

"Ike. Is their only child."

There was a gunshot. Sharon Marsh was nailed in the forehead, collapsing to the ground. The officer changed his aim to Randy, smirking wider and leaning close to Stan's ear.

"Say it again. . ." he whispered in a sick, joyful tone.

Stan became teary eyed and bit his lip, refusing to look at him family again. He could never, ever betray Kyle, no matter what.

"Ike. . . Is the only Broflovski child. . ." he said more shakily than before.

The second gunshot was fired. Sharon and Randy Marsh were now both dead, the gun now being pointed at Shelly.

"Last chance, Marsh. . ." And for the first time, Stan looked at the entirety of who was speaking to him. There was no was no way he was older than he was. Most likely around seventeen. He had medium-brown hair, bangs going about mid-forehead. His golden eyes that Stan had seen previously, and his slightly muscular, yet also slightly overweight figure. His eyes couldn't help but try and find a name tag. He found it, eyes widening at the name. Captain. Eric. Theodore. Cartman.

"The Broflovski's have one child, and no matter what you say or do, that will not change," Stan said, staring straight into Cartman's eyes.

With that, though, Stan was the only remaining member of the Marsh family.

"Take the Jews and kill the boy. I want those bodies burned. My work here," he took one last look at Stan. "Isn't quite finished."

"You won't get away with any of this!" Stan hissed as he was being dragged away by two Nazi soldiers, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"But dear Stan. . ." his smirk was almost sarcastic. "I believe I just did."

"No, NO!" Stan yelled as the soldiers pinned him to a wall. Then it was over. With one shot, they killed him instantly, a trickle of blood coming out of the corner of his mouth. The soldiers dropped him, a light thud audible once he hit the ground. They then grabbed Sheila and Gerald, who were in tears, dragging them from the home and locking them in a car, most likely to be taken to either a Concentration or Death Camp. No matter how victorious Eric Cartman was in killing and capturing, he never stopped until he had all he desired.

* * *

Kyle, who was **still **in the closet, had heard everything. His eyes were wide, tears running more heavily than before, his knuckles white from how firm his grip was on the door knob. The Jewish boy's life had just been ripped out of his hands, his purpose now seemingly gone. The only thought running through his mind at the current moment in time was _'they're gone. . .' _He sank to the floor, sitting with his knees pulled close to his chest, his eyes closed again. He REFUSED to release the door knob. He didn't want to move, or lose anything that reminded him of Stan, it was comforting him right now, which seemed almost impossible. He couldn't lose that, not now.

Meanwhile, Captain Eric was walking around the house, taking anything that appealed to him. He took food, water containers, alcohol, cigars, medical equipment, treasures, money, weapons, blankets, clothing from the bedrooms. He had been in Sharon and Randy's, Shelly's. . . The last stop was Stan's. Eric glared at the door for a second before putting his hand on the knob, turning it slowly. He opened the door in a creepily slow fashion, causing the hinges to creak. He stepped into the room, his heels clicking lightly and the floor boards squeaking. The Nazi boy looked around the room, grimacing.

"Mmm. . ." Eric hummed, now standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed.

"If only the kid had told the truth. Maybe he'd still be alive. . ." His voice was quiet, but definitely not a whisper.

And then it hit him. The** other** Broflovski boy. His eyes were wide for a moment before his terrible smirk returned.

"Ohoho. . ." He looked around the room as if he were hunting for prey, highly on the attack and wanting to kill. It was a blood lust that could not be controlled unless his desires were met. Cartman **knew** he was in this room. He could. . . _**Feel**_ it.

Kyle had heard his words and his eyes shot open the moment he began speaking. "No. . ." he whispered almost inaudibly, more tears streaming down his flushed cheeks.

"_**Kleine Jude**__. . ." _Eric purred, a wider smirk taking the place of the old one. He walked over to the closet after he checked under the bed. "_**Kommen um zu spielen**__. . ." _He placed a gloved hand on the door knob, a grip firmer than Kyle's, even though the Jewish boy was using two hands.

_(*Translation: Little Jew. . . Come out and play. . .*)_

Kyle desperately held on to the doorknob, tighter than he had before.

'I have to **move**,' he thought, his heart pounding in his chest. His thoughts would not leave him be, and it caused his body to tremble uncontrollably. Right as he was about to move and hide himself behind Stan's clothing, the door swung open, causing Kyle to fall flat on his face with a scream. The red headed boy moved to pick up his head, only to be shoved back down at the slightest of movements. A heavy, black combat boot crushed his head against the floor, the owner of the boot smirking wickedly. Kyle let out a noise of pain as the boot pressed harder on his head, tears flowing down his newly bruised face. Cartman's eyes flickered with joy and hatred, his smirk only growing at the boy's noise.

"_**Boo**_. . ."


	2. Chapter 2

**(*Author's Note* This story is rated M for fictional violence, historical content which may be difficult to read for some, hard yaoi /boy on boy/, Rape, and later on, gorey murder. The Marsh's will not be a part of that gore, I am sparing that much. There will be a few beatings, war scenes, and possible anorexia and starvation scenes. Read at your own will, leave me comments and ratings, I hope you enjoy my story and PLEASE tell me if I need to elaborate more. I AM writing this second chapter because it was requested for me to continue. Thank you all for reading.)**

Kyle tried to breathe, he wanted to, but his fear restricted him. He wanted desperately to fight the Nazi boy, tell him off. But the Jewish boy was smarter than that. He _knew_ that if he did anything like that he'd get his ass kicked, or worse, killed. He refused to allow that to happen. He had to stay strong, even if that meant-

"I knew he was lying. . ." Eric smirked, interrupting Kyle's thoughts. He removed his boot from the boy's head, leaning down. The ginger boy slightly gasped, a bit relieved, but his relief came too quickly. Just as fast as his relief had come, the Nazi reached down and gripped Kyle's curly hair tightly in his gloved hand, pulling his head up with a rough yank. He earned a whine of pain from the boy, which only made the sociopath smirk wider.

Kyle's emerald eyes met Cartman's golden ones, his own filled with tears and a tremendous amount of fear. The officer's, on the other hand, were filled with complete hatred, his expression reflecting how much power he believed he had.

"P-Please. . ." Kyle begged quietly, his voice slightly cracking at certain points.

"D-don't h-hurt me. . ." he closed his eyes tightly as Eric leaned his head closer to the Jewish boy's, examining him. His smirk didn't fade, his expression remaining the absolute same.

"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't," he spat, releasing Kyle's hair and kicking him sharply in the chest, causing the boy to fall back on the ground. The Jew clutched his chest and coughed, crying slightly harder than he already was. He looked up at Eric with a pained expression.

"Answer me, Jew!" he demanded, Kyle responding with the slightest of whimpers. He inched backwards, pressing his back against the closet wall, hugging his knees close to his chest. He, without even realizing at the moment, had completely cornered himself. Cartman scowled and stepped closer, leaning down again so his face was close to Kyle's. He lifted the smaller boy's chin with a slight jerk.

"Fine. . ." Eric smirked evilly, standing up again after a moment of examining Kyle's expression. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handgun, reloading it with a 'click.' The Jewish boy trembled at the noise, pulling his knees closer. It gave him the slightest sense of security, being able to control his body, because due to the current situation, that was the only thing he **could** control. Everything was. . . Unpredictable.

"Your silence tells me that you have no reason."

"If you really wanted to kill me, you would have done it already. . ." Kyle said under his breath. By that, Eric was curious.

"Are you doubting that I will kill you? Because believe me, I will."

The Jewish boy sat up, looking Cartman dead in the eyes. His strong-willed personality had returned to him for the moment, even though tears were still running down his cheeks. He was angry- no, beyond that- **_furious_**.

"You have taken. . . **everything** from me. And you still want more. All the things I care about, and even _worse-_" he spat, "-my best friend's life. How could dying possibly be any worse than that?" There was a small pause, Kyle's expression turning into a frown, his brows furrowing slightly. "I think you haven't killed me because you wish to torture me. . . **more** than you already have. Well, I'll tell you right now, you're a sick **_bastard_**."

Eric scowled and slapped the Jew clear across the face, his leather glove adding immensely to the pain. Kyle winced and lifted his hand to put on his now burning cheek, his eyes slightly wide.

"I am going to fucking kill you, you filthy J-"

"Then do it you fucking prick!" Kyle snapped. Cartman's eyes widened slightly, his eyebrows furrowing. His hatred was growing, he wanted to beat this kid.

"No. . ." He hissed, gripping the Jewish boy's shirt and lifting him up so he was standing, then slamming him mercilessly against the wall. Kyle made a noise of great pain, his head crashing hard against the cement wall. The boy's fear returned. _'No. . .?' _he thought as Cartman's hand pressed hard against his chest, pinning him so tightly to the wall he could not even attempt to move.

"You deserve. . . _much_ worse than death. . ." Eric's smirk was beyond maniacal, his expression murderous. "Killing you would be **_far_** too simple. . ." He put his gun away with his free hand, still holding the boy against the wall with the other. His tone of voice was terrifying, so much to make Kyle whimper slightly.

"I'm going to do you a favor, Jew boy. . ." he went close to his ear, whispering his next words. "I'll teach you some god damn _respect_. . ." Kyle's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes closing.

"I dare you to try, you fat piece of shit. You can't teach respect if you don't have any. . ." Eric glared slightly, the Jewish boy's words only adding to his anger.

"You know. . ." Eric seethed, his nostrils slightly flared. "I'm tired of listening to you speak. . ." He kneed him with incredible force, knocking the air out of the boy. Kyle gasped for air, his back arching slightly and his eyes closing tightly.

"That's _much_ better. . ." he smirked again, picking the Jewish boy up and slinging him over his shoulder like he was a log of wood. Kyle's eyes widened at this action, his breath finally returning to him.

"N-No! Put me down!" He fought, punching Eric's lower back repeatedly as he began walking out of the home. Kyle whined a little and punched him right on his spine, hitting a pressure point. Eric seized up for a moment and hissed, holding onto the Jew tighter.

"I said put me **down** you fat piece of **_fuck_**!" He cried out.

They were now outside, the cold air hitting both of the boys, seeping in through their clothing. Kyle scowled before biting his lip lightly, shivering.

"What did I tell you about talking!" Eric snapped, putting the boy down and shoving him roughly against the side of his old-fashioned 1930's style car. The only reason Officer Cartman had his own car was to hold the supplies he was instructed to collect from the homes he invaded. It was also used to transport the captured Jewish people to their, in his eyes, '_proper_' place.

Kyle struggled, squirming a little and making quiet grunts of effort. Eric, who was completely tired of this nonsense, punched the boy as hard as he could in the balls. The Jewish boy groaned and toppled over, grasping his hands over the area. Cartman just shook his head and sighed slightly.

"Useless Jew. . ." Eric mumbled, opening the car door and pulling out some cloth and rope. He held the rope in between his legs, ripping the cloth in half length wise. He threw one half away, lifting the weakened boy off the ground.

"I-I'm not u-usel-less you a-" Kyle's words were cut off as Cartman put the cloth over his mouth, the fabric slightly going into his mouth. The Nazi boy tied it around the back of his head tightly, triple knotting.

"What about shut up-" he grabbed Kyle's hands roughly and tied his small wrists tightly together with the rope. "-Do you not understand. . ." Eric smirked, shoving the boy into the car and slamming the door closed. Kyle made a few muffled noises, his eyebrows furrowed deeply and tears taking over his eyes once again. Great, an even _smaller_ space than the closet.

* * *

Eric had gone back inside, stepping over Stan's puddle of blood to get into his room. He picked up the supplies, specifically leaving behind a jug of gasoline and a box of matches on the floor. Cartman walked back out to the car, loading the trunk with the stolen treasures. After doing so, he returned to the house, picking up what he left behind. He opened the jug of gasoline and took a long, deep sniff of its' wretched scent.

"Mmm. . ." he hummed, a smirk curving his lips. The Nazi walked back out to the room where he had murdered the Marsh family.

"Farewell, Marsh home. . ." he said, pouring the gasoline all over the floor, making sure to get a decent amount into Stan's blood. The Captain walked back to the front door once the bottle was empty, throwing it on the floor. He opened the box of matches and lit three of them, his smirk growing wider.

"Heil Hitler," he said under his breath as he threw the matches into the home, running out of the house and slamming the door shut. He stopped running once he got to his car, not even turning around. He got in, looking back at Kyle with a smug expression. But oh, when the noise of explosion and memories being destroyed hit the Jewish boy's ears, the expression on his face was like candy for Cartman. He wanted more of the boy's pain, his tears, it all fed his ego, making him crave it.

Kyle stared out the window with wide eyes, more tears coming than before. Everything was gone. That's what Cartman wanted. **_Everything._** The red headed teen had a new hatred, one he had never felt in his entire sixteen years. He would get back at him somehow. While Kyle had been thinking, Eric had started the car, driving away from the burning building. He was proud of himself, and that was the sick part.

The Marsh home was engulfed in flames, and he didn't give a fuck, nor would he ever.


	3. Chapter 3

**(*Author's Note* This story is rated M for fictional violence, historical content which may be difficult to read for some, hard yaoi /boy on boy/, Rape, and later on, gorey murder. The Marsh's will not be a part of that gore, I am sparing that much. There will be a few beatings, war scenes, and possible anorexia and starvation scenes. Read at your own will, leave me comments and ratings, I hope you enjoy my story and PLEASE tell me if I need to elaborate more. ****_WARNING_****_: This chapter will contain physical and sexual abuse. _****Thank you all for reading.)**

Eric decided it was wise to go back to his home before returning to the Nazi headquarters. He wanted mainly to drop of the whiney Jew who was sitting in the back seat. He didn't want to deal with him much longer, he was so. . . _aggravating._ That was, however, mainly because he didn't tell him what he wanted to hear.

_'That's why he's a Jew, and you're not. . .' _he convinced himself with a smirk. _'But why the hell did I keep him alive. . .?' _his smirk disappeared, being replaced by a look of dissatisfaction.

As he continued his thoughts, Kyle was attempting to free himself. The boy made a few noises of effort, and Cartman could easily guess what he was trying to do. He had his bare feet on the rope, trying to push it off his aching wrists. In his mind, he knew it wouldn't work, they were tied too tightly, but it was always worth a try.

"What you're doing won't work," Eric said, as if he was reading Kyle's mind. This made the ginger teen look at him, eyebrows furrowed. The Nazi hadn't even turned around. The Jewish boy exhaled heavily through his nose before continuing on with his efforts, his eyes fixed on the rope. His wrists had been rubbing together the entire time, making the skin that was pressed together irritated. It didn't help that the rope was rubbing against them as well, causing the end of his forearms to burn and become slightly raw. Kyle was focused, determined, but it hurt so, so bad.

Suddenly, the car came to abrupt stop, causing the red head to lose focus as he got thrown forward. The boy winced and made a small, muffled noise as his face slammed against the back of Eric's seat. _'Fuck. . .'_ he thought. He was sure his nose was broken, though he couldn't see or touch it, it felt numb. Never a good sign. The Jew managed to move back a little, enough to see the Nazi boy get out of the car, glaring at him as he opened the door he was sitting by. Eric just smirked, snickering slightly as he pulled him out of the car.

"This is where you'll be living," he said plainly, gesturing towards his house with a nod. Kyle continued to glare at him, standing with his back against the side of the car, partially because he was having trouble standing, and also because he wanted to be as far away from his captor as possible. Cartman sighed with irritation and furrowed his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose lightly. He picked Kyle up, slinging him over his shoulder as he had previously, carrying the boy inside. The Jewish boy strongly disliked being handled, so he kicked Eric in the stomach as hard as he could, that is, as hard as he was able to in this position.

"You really are stubborn. . ." the brunette growled, grinding his teeth together. He shook it off with the slightest of smirks, closing the front door.

"No matter. . ." Eric paused for a moment. "I'll break that out of you soon enough. . ." he stated as he dug his nails into Kyle's back, holding him tightly against his shoulder.

The Jewish boy squirmed a little, making a noise of displeasure. He said something, but it was far too muffled to be understood. This made Cartman smirk wider, placing his hand on the doorknob which led to the basement. He opened the door and walked down the stairs, being sure to take somewhat heavy steps so Kyle's stomach would hit his shoulder repeatedly. Once finally down the steps, he put the ginger down, shoving him against a wall.

"Now, you listen to me and listen well," he said with a stern expression.

"There are a few rules that _must_ be obeyed. . ." Eric ripped the fabric off of the boy's mouth so he could hear him respond to the rules. The Jew glared and spat at him, earning him a hard slap on the same cheek that had been hit before. He stayed silent, putting his hand on his cheek and glaring at the floor.

"Good. . ." The Officer said in response to Kyle's silence, his smirk returning. "Rule number one: You will not _speak,_" he glanced at the red headed boy, knowing he liked to talk. ". . . Unless I specifically instruct you to do so." The Jew didn't respond, just barely glancing at Cartman.

"Rule number two," He continued. "Whatever I tell you to do, you will do it, no matter what it is."

"I'm not your fucking slave-" Kyle snapped, getting slapped once more before he could say anything else.

"Actually, you are." Eric smirked, watching the boy's pained expression. "You now have one strike for talking out of turn. . . Shame. . ."

Cartman paced slowly, watching the Jewish boy carefully. "Rule number three: You are not to come out of the basement. Period."

Kyle stared at him with a grimace, wanting more than anything to argue. The Nazi came closer to him and grabbed the boy's face with one hand, squishing his cheeks together.

"If you break any of these rules, there **_will_** be a consequence. . ." he whispered harshly, staring deeply into the Jewish boy's eyes, slightly glaring. "Are we understood. . .?"

Kyle looked at him for a moment before, regretfully, nodding.

"Good. . ." Eric released him, smirking and stepping back, but only slightly. "You will remain tied up, I want no risk of your escape. . ." he smirked wider, clearing his throat afterwards.

"Also, I will feed you. . ." he paused, rethinking that. "As long as you perform well, that is."

The ginger boy looked down for a moment before glaring back at Cartman, his eyebrows furrowed. The only thing worse than dying was submitting to that scum bag. He couldn't let him have power.

"Why can't you just-" He was quickly stopped as the brunette grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close so their chests were touching and their eyes level.

"Are you going for strike _two_, Broflovski. . .?" he emphasized, hissing the boy's last name with a smirk. "Because you just earned it. . ." This made Kyle swallow slightly, a tad nervous as he tried to keep eye contact.

"Go ahead. . ." Eric purred close to the ginger's ear, biting the lobe softly. This made Kyle more nervous, his eyes widening slightly and his thoughts racing. "Say more. . . See what happens. . ." The tone he used made the Jew cringe, shivering slightly.

"N-No. . ." He challenged, speaking with a quivery tone, though he was glaring. Without realizing, he had just given Cartman **_exactly_** what he wanted. He watched as the other's eyes lit up, his smirk becoming evil.

"Strike three. . ." He whispered. In a swift motion, he turned Kyle over, forcefully shoving him against the wall.

"Ahn-" The Jewish boy gasped in pain as Eric's gloved hand gripped his hair tightly, pressing his face firmly against the wall. The ginger cringed again, making a small noise of pain as his already aching nose was smashed against the cement wall.

The Officer pressed into his backside, leaning in close to his ear again. He chuckled softly, but it was dark and twisted, causing the boy to whimper slightly. This made the Nazi's smirk turn wicked, pulling the boy's hair slightly more.

"I'm going to teach you not to break my rules. . ." he whispered, moving his free hand down Kyle's back slowly. ". . .And I'm going to be rough, just so you never forget. . ."

The red head shivered slightly as his hand trailed further down, squeezing his eyes closed. There was no way he could do anything. . . _that_ terrible, right. . .? Kyle attempted to convince himself of this, unable to shake the feeling he was thinking too lightly. Once Eric reached the boy's lower back, he moved his hand slowly to the front, gripping the middle of his pajama pant line.

Kyle's eyes widened. He was wrong. . . So very wrong. He pushed his body back on Cartman in attempt to shove him off with a small grunt of effort.

"Don't even **_try_** to touch me. . ." he seethed, making the Nazi boy smirk with demented pleasure.

"I can touch you if that's what I please. . ." he hissed, his smirk not disappearing. "Besides. . . If you didn't want me to touch you, you would have obeyed. . ." Eric pressed into him more, pushing him harder against the wall. The soldier boy forcefully pulled down the Jew's pants, his underwear next. Kyle tensed up slightly, squeezing his hands tightly together.

"Mmm. . ." the Nazi hummed, moving his hand back around and grabbing the ginger's ass roughly, his nails into the cheek slightly. The action made the boy wince and whine, his back arching the slightest amount.

Cartman smirked and moved his hand, beginning to undo his own pants. Kyle tried to move but couldn't, the pressure on his head overwhelming as the Nazi pushed harder. He finally got his pants down, using his hand now to push the Jew's stomach against the wall. However, the smaller boy attempted resistance, making Eric's brows furrow. He punched the ginger hard in the middle of his back, causing him to cry out and submit to moving.

"There, see. . .?" he whispered in the Jewish boy's ear. "If you don't fight me, it's easier. . ." His smirk widened further, grabbing Kyle's tied wrists and pulling them up above his head, pinning them against the wall.

Kyle scowled and kicked Cartman hard in the knee, making the brunette grind his teeth together.

"Your stubbornness will be the end of you-" he growled, yanking the ginger's hair roughly, earning a noise from the boy. The Jew made another noise, a bit louder and more pain-filled as Eric grabbed his member, a tad too hard. The Nazi teen didn't care though. The boy's noises of pain and expressions of suffering brought him great pleasure, causing him to be fairly aroused. He hated the kid with a passion, and he was going to make sure he never fought him again.

Kyle teared up slightly, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. Though he was not by any means enjoying this, he had never been touched by another person before. His attempts to save it for someone who he actually gave a shit about had been taken away from him, seeing as there was no way to get Cartman to discontinue his actions. Yet, he still wanted to fight him.

Eric was tired of procrastinating, so he released the Jew's hair and length, watching the boy's slight relief. Once again, as it had earlier, his relief had come too soon. He forced Kyle to bend over by making a hard blow to his stomach, holding on tightly to the boy's hips tightly afterwards. The ginger made a sound of complete misery, gritting his teeth together as tears streamed down his flushed cheeks.

The Nazi smirked and thrusted his hips forward, penetrating the boy's tight entrance. Kyle practically screamed, clawing at the wall as his tears became heavier, causing his vision to be slightly blurred. He felt like he was being ripped in half, his insides burning as Cartman continued to thrust into him mercilessly.

"What's the matter, Jew, can't handle your own punishment. . .?" He grunted, a maniacal tone audible in his voice. Eric continued to thrust, harder and faster than before, earning louder moans of protest from the boy. He dug his nails deep into the ginger's hips, causing him to bleed a little.

The Jewish boy cried out, his body hitting the wall with each of the brunette's painful blows to his inside. There was not even the slightest bit of pleasure in this, every single movement caused him pain. But he was guessing that's how the Nazi boy intended it to be.

"S-Stop!" Kyle cried weakly as Cartman pounded into him deeply, still going hard. Eric smirked evilly and bent down, biting in-between the ginger's shoulder blades, tugging on his skin roughly. He was sure to bite hard enough to leave a mark, dragging his nails down the boy's legs. His nails were in deep enough that as he dragged them, little bits of blood trickled down the Jew's pale skin.

That was just a plus, though. The real glory of it was that the action alone made Kyle scream, his tears flowing madly. Cartman moaned, lusting after the sound.

"Say it again~" he hissed, thrusting as hard as humanly possible into the boy. He wanted to hear him scream, beg for him to stop. It made him feel. . . **powerful. **

Kyle panted a little and tried not to cry harder. It wasn't going to make anything better. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't win. Not yet, at least. The Jewish boy trembled slightly, his legs becoming weak. He couldn't hold himself up much longer if Eric kept going at this rate.

"S-Stop. . .! Please. . .!" he begged, desperately dragging his nails down the wall. His words sent the Nazi boy over the edge. He bit down hard on the red head's neck, letting out a moan of sick ecstasy, coming inside of him with one last, hard thrust. His actions came to an abrupt halt before he pulled out of him, pushing him on the ground with a rough shove.

The ginger boy curled up into a ball on the floor, his eyes wide with fear. His body was trembling, tears still flowing heavily down his cheeks, his breath labored and quivering. He put a hand over his mouth as Eric kicked him in the chest, trying not to make noise even though his expression was pained.

"Look at me," Cartman demanded, his pants pulled up once again. Kyle obliged hesitantly, turning his head to look at him with his teary eyes.

"Don't forget this. Next time," he began as a warning. "It will be much, much worse." The Jewish boy appeared afraid, slowly nodding.

"Good. . ." Eric smirked, standing up straight and walking to the bottom of the staircase. He looked back at Kyle again, and evil glint in his eyes, though his expression quite serious. It easily showed his experience with the Nazi Army, the hatred and professionalism.

"I will return later this evening. As of now, I must report back to the base." he stated, walking up the stairs and opening the door.

"It is far past eleven o'clock, so be a good boy and get some rest," he teased slightly, smirking as he closed the door, leaving the ginger boy alone as he locked the door.

* * *

The Jewish boy wrapped his tied arms around his knees, pulling them closer. He was in pain, so much, unbearable pain. His thighs stung, his ribs ached, his back and ass burning. His open wounds caused his muscles to twitch slightly, begging him for attention. He sobbed, closing his eyes. All he could see was darkness, pitch black in a sea of nothingness. And that's exactly what he felt.

There was, however, one exception to that nothing. The only thing on his mind at the moment, the one person he couldn't get off his mind at any point in time-

"Stan. . ." he whispered, his voice hoarse. With that, the ginger boy cried himself to sleep, cold and alone in the world. Nothing could be worse than this. . . Or, so he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm sorry for not updating.. the chapter is done I just haven't uploaded.. should I continue this story?


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